


Beginnings

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Series: Taking What Comes [1]
Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 05:49:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8566393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: Everything has to start somewhere.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Importing a few things I wrote on Tumblr for archiving purposes.

Rhys’ first kill and his sexual awakening happen on the same day, although he doesn’t recognize the latter until much later.

The kill is unmistakeable; his - his _victim_ , he supposes, is gurgling out his last breath through a slashed windpipe, head lolling forward and blood staining his shirt in a wash of crimson. Rhys got caught in the arterial spray, so his own clothes are messy, but he kept his grip on the switchblade in his hand and he can feel Jack’s warm hands squeeze his shoulders with approval.

“Good boy, Rhysie,” Handsome Jack purrs in his ear, then he straightens and Rhys’ back feels cold when Jack steps away. “Get this meatbag out of here,” Jack calls, and the two foot soldiers hanging back shift into action. “Dump him in the alley, don’t clean him up. Let’s let Torgue know what happens when he tries to buy my people out from under me.”

Rhys stays where he is, watching the men untie the body from the chair and start dragging it out of the room. He had always imagined that he’d feel different if he killed someone, that it would change him somehow. Omegas aren't supposed to be capable of it.

Instead he just feels empty, and he waits for Jack to tell him what he should do next. Jack will know what to do; he always does.

“You did good today, kiddo, I’m proud of you,” Jack says, turning back to him. Rhys preens, letting Jack’s words fill up the waiting space inside of him. Jack smiles crookedly. “Keep this up and you’ll be giving Wilhelm a run for his money soon.”  Rhys ducks his head, and Jack ruffles a hand in his hair and smooths it down the back of his neck. Jack steps closer, mismatched eyes burning into Rhys’ own, and Rhys feels his breath coming shorter, something that he doesn’t have a name for stirring in his chest.

Jack curls his fingers around the back of Rhys’ neck, thumb sliding forward to rest under Rhys’ jaw. Jack tilts Rhys’ head upward to just this side of an uncomfortable angle, exposing his neck. “I have high hopes for you, Rhysie,” Jack says, thumb pressing in. “I don’t think you’re going to let me down, are you.”

Rhys wants to shake his head, but Jack’s hand is holding him still, so he settles for, “no, sir.” Jack smiles at that, and Rhys tucks the sight away for later, something to hold on to when Jack’s busy and doesn’t have time for him. Jack lets him go and claps him on the shoulder - “Atta boy” - and turns away again to supervise the cleanup. _Now_ Rhys’ pulse is racing, and he can’t quite catch his breath, but it’s probably just a delayed reaction to his first real kill.

He’s less sure of that when he wakes up the next morning to soiled sheets and the memory of blood on his hands and Jack’s burning eyes. Rhys looks over at Vaughn, still asleep on the other side of the room, and knows in his heart that this is something he’s going to have to keep to himself.

 

 

* * *

 

Vaughn sees the way Handsome Jack looks at Rhys.

Vaughn had known exactly who who they were talking to on that cold November night. It wasn’t the first offer of _protection_ they’d gotten; he and Rhys had been sticking to strictly small-time pickpocketing, but few things went down on the street that Handsome Jack didn’t know about. So it wasn’t the first offer, and if things had been different Vaughn would have turned this one down too, except for two things:

First, Rhys was sick, for the third time this year, while he tried to play it off Vaughn was terrified every time Rhys went to sleep that he wouldn’t wake up again. If Vaughn said _yes_ , it meant a warm place to sleep, regular meals, and most importantly to Vaughn right now, a doctor when they needed it.

Second, this was Handsome Jack himself standing over them, not some measly lieutenant, and while Vaughn thought it was theoretically possible to say _no_ to Handsome Jack’s face and live, he had never met anyone who had done it. The man’s face looked bored, as if he didn’t care which way Vaughn answered him, but his eyes were sharp with interest.

So here they are, and in a lot of ways things are better than they ever were - Vaughn and Rhys have their own room with real beds, Rhys hasn’t been sick in months, and with regular meals he’s starting to add on the inches, much to Vaughn’s disgruntlement. The work is a lot easier than relieving passers-by of their wallets; Vaughn has always had a head for numbers, and Handsome Jack’s empire needs bookkeepers as much as it needs enforcers.

It’s that last part that Vaughn’s not entirely happy about, at least in how it applies to them. Rhys basks in Jack’s attention, and while Rhys’ fingers have always been lightning fast, Handsome Jack seems especially interested in how they curve around the handle of a knife. Jack occasionally takes Rhys with him when he’s out working, trips from which Rhys returns thoughtful and occasionally with a few drops of red on him. Jack’s hands linger a little too long on Rhys’ shoulders, his gaze on Rhys just a little too hungry for Vaughn’s liking.

Vaughn sees the way Handsome Jack looks at Rhys and he doesn’t like it, not at all.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
